Busted: Promise Harbor, Book 3 (32 page)

“His body just started shutting down. I thought we had more time.” Matt stood next to her, and Hayley held up her hand for him to take.

“I was here this afternoon. He was sleeping again. I thought it was just from another bad night. I should have stayed, waited until he woke up.” Every word stuck in her throat. “Were you here?” She looked up at her brother.

Matt nodded. Eyes shining, his lips curved in a sad smile. “I stopped by to see him. He was tired but wanted to watch the draft again. Then he said he needed to go lie down. It happened so fast.” His voice broke, and he pressed his lips together. “Right before his heart finally gave out, he was talking about seeing Dad and Nan really soon.”

Their mother bowed her head, her shoulders shaking, and pain slashed through Hayley all over again.

It was all too much. Too much at once. And they’d known. His prognosis had been grim from the start, but the longer he’d held on, the more Hayley had convinced herself they still had time. God, she’d known he was dying. Why didn’t that make any of this easier?

The pressure on her chest was unbearable. “I need some air.” She let go of Matt’s hand and walked out of the room.

Outside the hospital she had room to move without feeling closed in. She sat on the bench down the sidewalk from the main entrance. The tears had started to slow, and she tried hard not to think about the fact that she would never again see her grandfather get riled up over a hockey game on television, or pour another drink at Stone’s, or laugh at something she said.

A few minutes later Matt sat next to her. She hadn’t even noticed him walking toward her.

“He’s not suffering any more, Hayls.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“We’ll get through this.” Matt held her hand and they sat in silence for a while, then he went back inside to wait for their mother. Hayley dug out her phone. It crossed her mind to call Jackson, but she didn’t trust herself not to fall apart.

Instead she dialed Gavin’s number. Hayley thought she was fine until Gavin’s voice mail clicked in, and the sound of her best friend’s voice made her crumble inside. She squeezed her eyes shut, trapping the tears that burned behind her eyes.

“Gav, I need to talk to you. Things are so messed up and Gramps…” She pressed her lips together, swallowing tightly. “He’s gone, Gavin.”

She made herself hang up before she started crying on the phone. She didn’t want to freak her friend out completely, and she’d only worry him if she lost it while the message was still recording.

Matt was right. They would get through it. She just didn’t know when it would ever stop hurting.

See you around, Jackson.

Hayley’s words replayed through his head for the hundredth time since he’d left Promise Harbor.

He started to reach for his phone, as he had half a dozen times since he’d gotten off the plane, then remembered he’d left it to charge in his hotel room this morning.

He’d tried calling her last night, only to chicken out at the last second every time, words failing him. She’d sounded like she was saying good-bye to him, and although he’d known it would come down to that—hadn’t he?—he found it wasn’t sitting well with him at all.

If didn’t help that he knew she’d been upset that he’d left before the autograph signing. Did she know yet that he’d called Bernice on his way out of town and asked her to reschedule the signing for the following weekend?

Bernice had readily agreed, and then guilt-tripped him into bringing along some more hockey friends and moving the early VIP party to a bigger venue to allow for more ticket sales. By the time she was done with him, he’d also agreed to foot the bill for the catering.

“Mr. Knight? Jackson?” a man’s voice prompted.

Jackson glanced from the spot at the center of the ice below that displayed the Sentinels insignia, vaguely aware he hadn’t said anything in a while.

He nodded, trying to focus on what the two men next to him were saying. The general manager, dressed in an expensive suit that reminded Jackson of something Eric Thorton would wear, stood beside the Sentinels coach.

The Sentinels arena was empty, and although first walking inside had felt a little like coming home, the sensation had passed too quickly. He found himself searching for his earlier enthusiasm.

This was what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

He listened with half an ear to the conversation that touched on player contracts, stats and league bullshit that he’d managed to forget about. He believed what Mitch Stone had said about being a good coach, but standing here, something about the whole thing just felt…off.

“Why don’t we grab some lunch?” one of the men suggested. “There’s a place right down the street with the best burgers.”

It wouldn’t compare to Barney’s, he knew.

Christ, he’d spent years ignoring the harbor and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it?

He rubbed his hand over his face. “Sounds good to me.” He followed the men through the building, trying to summon the focus and drive, the feeling like he was doing something important, that he’d felt before.

After his accident he’d been so frustrated and angry for so long. Then the wedding came along and the job offer, and everything had started to turn around.

Hayley had been the best kind of trouble, and working on Coach’s place had given him something to work at, a job that meant something again. And helping out Matt and the auction and…

He stopped walking. He couldn’t have been that much of an idiot. Had he actually believed that the coaching job had anything to do with his life turning around?

He’d been so caught up in worrying about whether coaching was a good fit that maybe he’d been too quick to think he understood Coach’s remark. Maybe this job wasn’t the part of his life where he needed to be fearless.

“Jackson?” Ahead of him, the Sentinels coach waited.

“I’m sure you two don’t mind if I take a day to think over the offer?”

The two men exchanged looks of surprise. “We’d need an answer by Wednesday.”

He nodded, then shook each of their hands before leaving them to go to lunch without him. There were things he needed to figure out.

Things that ended up taking him most of the day as it turned out. It was early evening by the time he returned to his hotel, and after a quick shower, he picked up the phone to call Hayley. Seeing the voice mail message, his heart picked up speed. He checked his caller ID and noticed a Promise Harbor area code. Hoping it was Hayley, he listened to the message.

Jackson slid off the bed at the sound of Matt’s voice, his fingers curling around the phone.

Coach was gone.

Jackson glanced from the lake to the house, wondering if he’d made the right decision coming to see Hayley. After hearing Matt’s voice, he’d booked the next flight home, only to miss it due to a fucking traffic accident. Hours later he’d boarded his flight and then driven the remaining distance from Boston to the harbor.

He hadn’t thought about anything but getting back to Hayley after hearing the news, but she hadn’t returned any of his calls yet. He’d tried calling again when his plane landed, but either her phone was off or she was screening his calls.

Not that he could blame her if she was still upset with him. He’d fucked up. He’d been waiting so long for the chance to get his life back together that he hadn’t noticed the actual moment when it happened.

It hadn’t crossed his mind not to go to the meeting, but if he’d asked for it to be pushed back another day, if only to keep the autograph commitment, then he would have been here when Coach passed away.

Instead he’d been a self-absorbed ass, thinking only of himself. Was it any wonder Hayley was avoiding him?

Although it was late afternoon, Jackson settled himself in one of the Adirondack chairs on the porch to wait for Hayley, mentally rehearsing what he would say to convince her that he was sorry for screwing up. Sorry for leaving her at the worst time.

It didn’t even matter that he’d been convinced leaving was the right call or that he’d been offered the position. He shouldn’t have left with things between them so unsettled. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to leave her at all.

After waiting for nearly two hours, Jackson called Matt to check on her. His friend let him know they’d all gone back to their mother’s place and Hayley was asleep in one of the guestrooms.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he headed for his car. He’d already called his parents earlier to let them know about Coach, and they planned on driving straight through to get home in time for the funeral. Matt had told him earlier it would be a small service. Coach hadn’t wanted to drag anything out, and with no family farther away than a few hours, the service was set for the following day.

As he slid behind the wheel, it occurred to Jackson to go straight to Mrs. Stone’s place to see Hayley, but he didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. He could wait until tomorrow to fix things.

And he would, no matter how determined she was to avoid him.

Needing a beer and a friend, Jackson reached for his phone. Matt had enough to deal with, so he punched in Josh’s number, hoping his friend was back in town.

The
small
service turned out to draw nearly as many people as Josh and Allie’s almost-wedding, and nearly half of them had put in an appearance at Mrs. Stone’s house, where they were holding the wake.

Jackson had spent the last half-hour trying to get Hayley alone. A task he hadn’t even managed when he’d shown up on Mrs. Stone’s doorstep first thing in the morning looking for Hayley.

Although she’d hugged him and held his hand through the service, squeezing his fingers so damn tight that emotion had clogged his throat, Hayley had spent the rest of the time avoiding him. He stuck as close as he dared, all too aware that she’d closed herself off to him.

What he hadn’t expected was how helpless it made him feel. He’d sat through the service, keeping his own grief tethered inside and aching to take away the pain in Hayley’s eyes. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, get her away from all of this, even if it was only for a few minutes.

He finally got his chance when she slipped out to the garage in search of more ice. To make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted for a moment, he closed the door behind him.

Her shoulders stiffened the moment she noticed him there. “Can you give me a hand?”

“Can we talk first?”

“I really need to get these inside.” She withdrew two bags of ice from the deep freeze. She walked past him.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

Hayley stopped in front of the door. “Did you get the job?”

“He made me a good offer, yeah.”

She faced him, a smile firmly in place. “I know how important that was to you. Congratulations.” Nothing betrayed the sincerity on her face.

Her words should have heightened his relief and excitement about the opportunity. Why then did it seem less important now that it was all within his grasp?

“We’re doing a bigger and better autograph signing on the weekend.” He needed her to know that he’d done his best to fix that situation.

“I heard. I’m sure Kyle and the others will love every minute of it.”

“Hope so.” Needing something else to keep the conversation going when he sensed she wanted to run, he took one of the bags of ice, opened the door and reached back for her free hand.

Hayley stopped. “We don’t need to pretend anymore.”

He let his hand fall back to his side, the icy determination in her voice giving him pause.

She sighed. “By tomorrow the whole town is going to know about your new position with the Sentinels. I’d say your reputation is golden for a while, provided you don’t start any riots.” The latter was probably meant as a joke, but he was too busy struggling to stop the whole conversation from sliding out from under him to laugh.

“Hayley—”

“We had fun, right?”

They’d had more than that, hadn’t they? “Right,” he answered, trying to read her. He was missing something, but couldn’t figure out what exactly. And none of it meant anything good.

She took the ice from him. “Thanks.” She walked away as if that was all there was to say.

Jackson kept right on her heels all the way into the kitchen and straight into a room jam-packed with enough women he could almost taste the estrogen. Mrs. Stone enveloped him in a warm embrace, and Hayley couldn’t have planned it better if she’d signaled her mother ahead of time to distract him.

With six women between the ages of twenty and eighty separating him from Hayley—who stubbornly moved around the kitchen, keeping herself busy—he didn’t have a hope in hell of talking to her privately.

Mrs. Stone grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Could you give this to Kyle for me?”

Jackson hadn’t noticed the kid wheeling around the place, but agreed even though it was probably just as excuse to get him out of the room. He searched the house, then followed the hoots of laughter outside to the side street next to Mrs. Stone’s house.